


the true hungers of our time

by scavengertrash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mind Control, Slow Burn, Vampire Kylo Ren, Witch Poe Dameron, nonbinary bb-8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scavengertrash/pseuds/scavengertrash
Summary: Ventana Springs is a small town in southern California that Finn can't wait to escape, and Rey can't stand to leave. When a visitor arrives back in town after a long period away, strange and supernatural happenings pull them into a conflict between vampires and witches that reaches back for generations. Though dangerous, it might just be the way they both find a place for themselves.





	the true hungers of our time

**Author's Note:**

> This is vaguely influenced by the worldbuilding of The Vampire Diaries, which is objectively the only good part of that show. If you haven't watched the Vampire Diaries, don't worry -- I'm altering things as I see appropriate anyway. It's super nonessential. Rey is a supernatural creature, but I won't reveal what yet, and Finn is not. 
> 
> If you're here for the ships as labelled, I'm gonna go ahead and apologize strongly that it might take time to get there. (E.g., Rey and Kylo won't even meet this chapter. Maybe not the next either.) Be prepared for hard slow burn and also about as much canon compliance you can get while AU. 
> 
> Also expect the rating to go up to E, eventually. I currently only have smut planned for Reylo, but I'll be on the lookout for places I can include it for Stormpilot too. 
> 
> Warning: Finn spends most of this chapter under mind control. The emphasis is obviously on the fact that he is NOT acting like himself during it.

“Poe Dameron has a book,” the man at the bar told him. He was tall, over six feet, and he wore a thick wool winter coat that hung down around his knees, with the hood up. It was a weird choice indoors, but it kept his face shrouded. “I need you to get it for me.” 

Finn wasn’t supposed to be there, not really. 

He was only a senior in high school, working off of a fake ID, so even though the guy hovering beside him was sincerely freaking him out, he wasn’t going to draw attention from the bouncer. That was like asking people to look twice at him, and he wasn’t an idiot. No poor orphan counting on a football scholarship draws attention to themselves for an alcohol charge. 

The bar was one town over. A club, actually. There were no clubs in Ventana Springs. This was the closest one, and the only place he could come if he wanted to meet  _ guys.  _ According to the news, being gay wasn’t supposed to be hard anymore, but it was in a small town like Ventana. But even one town over, news would get back to his coach if he wound up in the drunk tank or something.

So instead of telling the guy to fuck off, like he wanted to, Finn asked, “Who’s Poe Dameron?” 

“He’s a witch.” 

At that, Finn laughed. It was an uproarious sound, but still it was swallowed by the throb of the music all around them. He turned to look at this guy, really look at him, for the first time. He still couldn’t get a good glimpse of his face except to be sure that he was pale, with a long nose.    
“You mean a wizard? What, is it your D&D manual?” 

“No.” 

This guy wasn’t laughing, and Finn wasn’t really sure if it was ‘no’ to one, or the other, or both, but he’d had just about enough of this.

“You’re crazy,” Finn said. “I’m not doing anything for you.” He nodded his head towards the crowd. “Get out of here. Find somebody else.” 

“I don’t think I will.” 

“Seriously? Try somebody who knows your friend if you want your stuff back from him.” 

Finn made to walk away. He was even ready to leave his beer behind and everything. It didn’t even taste good anyway, just like bitter water. But this guy, whoever he was, grabbed Finn by the arm and pulled him back.

Finn wasn’t a weak guy. He never had been. He may not have been the tallest kid on the football team, or the broadest, but he was solidly built. All muscle. He took his training seriously. So for this guy to just manhandle him around …

When Finn wheeled around to face him, he saw the guy’s face finally. His eyes were a deep black all the way through and he bared snarling, sharp teeth. Needle-thin, like a piranha. Finn opened his mouth to shout, but the man’s other hand came up and closed over it, smothering the sound beneath the thumping base.

Then he leaned in and repeated, “You are going to get the Solarium from Poe Dameron, and you are going to bring it to me. Tell him that Kylo Ren is coming for everything he is owed.” 

As he spoke, a dreamlike calm settled over Finn. It was a perfectly reasonable request, really. Just a book. And it belonged to Kylo, anyway -- he was just reappropriating it. Slowly, in a daze, Finn nodded. The man’s hand came away from his mouth, and Finn repeated back, “I’ll get the Solarium from Dameron. Where should I meet you to drop it off?”

“There is a mansion on the south edge of town.”

“The old Skywalker place?” Finn balked. “That thing’s a museum. Isn’t it condemned?” 

“No,” replied Kylo Ren simply. “Bring it there.” 

And just like before, a sleepy feeling swept Finn up, and he nodded along.

“Sure, buddy. Whatever you want.”

The guy released him then. Faded into the crowd of writhing bodies, more than Finn had ever seen before in his life. Finn watched him go, stunned at first, shaking off that faintly numb feeling, airy, like he’d come down off the nitrous from the dentist. He turned back to the bar, and the bartender was staring expectantly at him.

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded.

“That guy … you gonna cover his drink?” 

Finn groaned, cursing under his breath as he pulled out another ten-dollar bill. It was highway robbery, as far as he was concerned -- that’s why he stuck to three-dollar beer -- but as far as the bartender was concerned, they were together. 

He looked over his shoulder, scrutinizing the empty space that Kylo Ren had occupied. What a weird guy.

 

* * *

 

The request stuck with him. It wasn’t exactly a controlling, immediate demand. It was more insidious than that. In part, perhaps, because Finn didn’t have the first idea where to look to find Poe Dameron. He didn’t know the guy, and he’d never even heard of him. So for the next day, he just let himself forget about it as he headed back to school.

Like everyone else in the tiny, 20,000-person town of Belmonte, Finn attended Ventana Springs High School. He wasn’t the best football player, or the most popular, but all around the school, people turned to watch him with at least a little bit of envy. He was exceptional. He was going places. Finn tried not to let it go to his head and instead stay focused on his classes. It was only like this because they’d won. 

He kept his head down through the first half of the day -- AP physics, AP calculus, AP government. All he needed to worry about was keeping his grades and his performance high. The popularity wasn’t why he played -- he wanted to go to college, and it was his only route.

No, he didn’t care about the social climate at school. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t a nice perk. At the end of lunch, Finn approached his friend Nines’ locker. Slip was already there, and the two were laughing to one another. Finn high-fived both in casual greeting as they saw him. They were both on the football team with him, and had been for three years.

“We missed you last night,” Nines said. “I thought we were gonna study.” 

“We were?” Finn’s voice pitched upward with uncertainty. “I thought that was tonight.” 

“Man, get your head out of the clouds.” Slip slapped his backpack and Finn laughed his apology, holding up his hands.

“My bad, my bad. Chill. Look, the report’s not due until Friday, and --” He stopped as they walked down the hall, looking up at the trophy case. 

There it was. He  _ knew _ the name Poe Dameron had sounded familiar, but he hadn’t been able to place it. This is why. A picture sat in the trophy case, untouched for at least five years, of the last team to win the state championship for the Ventana Springs Coyotes. Poe Dameron had been the quarterback that year, a hotshot, way before Finn had ever gone to this school. 

According to the dates printed below the picture with his name, Poe had graduated with the class of ‘08, ten years ago. 

“Damn.” 

“Finn?” Slip asked, waving a hand in front of his face. “Dude, what are you doing?” 

“I wish I could find that guy.” 

“Who? Dameron?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” Nines interrupted now. “Big dreams of state championships? The game’s changed a lot in the past ten years. I heard there’s this school near Sacramento that’s actually paying kids. Like college, you know?” He patted Finn on the shoulder. “Don’t get your hopes up, buddy.” 

“Yeah.” Finn looked over at the two of them. Nines and Slip didn’t quite get it. They were like him, nobody, but both of them were more comfortable with it. They didn’t mind if high school football amounted to the best years of their lives -- they were ready to appreciate it while it was here. “Don’t you want that? A championship? Then they’d keep  _ our  _ pictures in one of these cases.” 

Nines and Slip exchanged a skeptical look. It was sort of funny to watch, actually, since Nines was so much taller. Slip was so small that he wasn’t even first string. He was their second kicker. 

“Come on,” Finn insisted. 

“If you want to talk to him, you can talk to him,” Slip said finally. “Dameron works for Mayor Organa’s office now. He helped on her campaign.” 

The bell rang. Finn clapped Slip on the chest and said, “Thanks,” then headed for the door out of the building.

“Finn?” Slip called after him. “Finn, are you ditching?” A pause. “Should we come?” 

“Don’t worry about it!” Finn called back. “Tonight! Lab report! I’ll remember!” 

Then he was gone, out the door, and on his way to the Mayor’s office. Finn didn’t have a car, so he hoofed it, and even with his hustle, it took him upwards of a half hour to get there. He was sweating and breathing hard. It seemed stupid -- he didn’t need to  _ run for it  _ \-- but it had felt important at the time. 

The secretary, a sweet vietnamese girl with a name tag that read ‘PAIGE,’ looked him over uneasily. She pulled the sign-in sheet back as he reached for it.

“Oh, you don’t need to … That’s for when we’re busier.” That might have been what she said, but the look on her face was all judgment. He was pretty sure she just didn’t want him sweating on it. She recovered smoothly though and asked, “Can I help you?” 

Finn didn’t let himself get hung up on the insult.

“Poe Dameron. I need to meet with Poe Dameron.” 

“Do you have an appointment?” 

“No.” Finn went ashen. “Do I  -- Do I need an appointment? Is he the kind of guy you need an appointment to see?” 

“No, it should be fine. What’s your name and what’s the meeting about?” 

“Finn. Uh, Finn Niima. And it’s about football.” 

Paige’s eyes narrowed a little bit. She pursed her lips, but very slowly she nodded and got up from her desk. 

“Whatever you say.” Her mouth tightened into a smile.

She walked around the desk to lead him down a musty hallway. It smelled like old shoes. Maybe old houses just smelled like that when they’d been kept up properly. His group home didn’t. It just smelled like BO. All along the walls were paintings of old politicians, people who used to run the town, including Bail Organa.  

“Huh,” Finn said as Paige dragged him around the corner. 

“Don’t gawk,” she suggested, standing very seriously outside of the door. “And don’t waste his time. Ask your questions and be done with it. We have important work to do.” 

“You don’t … seem to like me very much.”

“I don’t,” Paige replied simply and opened the door. Her smile was much more genuine when she fixed it on the man behind the desk, and as Finn followed her gaze, he quickly figured out the reason why. “Mr. Dameron, there’s a Finn Niima here to see you. Something about … football.” 

She glanced back at him with a faint sniff of judgment, but Finn didn’t even care.

Poe Dameron was beautiful. Finn hadn’t really thought about it, looking at his high school photo. His features were sort of lopsided then, all the wrong proportions for his face. His nose had gotten bigger since then, and he’d learned to stop doing that weird spiked-straight-up thing to his hair, and it brought the whole look together. 

He had golden brown skin, which looked just a little darker around his beard. Finn wasn’t sure if it was attraction or envy that had him noticing that -- he was almost eighteen now and he still couldn’t grow even a little bit of scruff to save his life. Where Finn kept his hair buzzed short against his dark scalp, Poe’s was long, styled in curls and waves to keep out of his face but well-controlled. 

And he wore a  _ suit.  _

“Shit,” Finn sputtered out. 

Paige and Poe both stared at him.

“I mean --  _ Shit.”  _ That’s what he came back to. Finn scrubbed a hand over his quickly reddening face. He’d forgotten every other word he knew. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to talk,” Paige said with an apologetic look at Poe that Finn just knew he deserved. She disappeared, then, and shut the door behind her.

And he was alone.

Alone with Poe.

“You from Ventana Springs?” Poe supplied helpfully.

“ _ Yes.”  _ Finn was eager for the life preserver that he’d just been thrown, and he seized upon it. “Yes. I’m -- I’m from Ventana Springs.” 

“And you want to talk about … football.” Poe got up from his desk and walked around it, pulling up one side of his blazer to tuck his hand into his pocket. “I hope this isn’t about donations because you’re barking up the wrong tree. We’re soliciting those ourselves, these days. It’s almost campaign season.” 

Finn laughed. 

And then he laughed again, more nervously. Only when Poe arched his eyebrows then did Finn finally put together a sentence.

“No! I just wanted to talk to you about your championship.” 

It had been a lie to get the guys off his back when he was in the halls at school, but with Poe in front of him now, Finn would happily listen to him talk about anything. Except he didn’t need to just talk about anything. He needed one thing, for Kylo Ren: the Solarium. The compulsion hit him full force then, as Poe grinned and asked, “That was a good year. You with the school paper? Is this some kind of biography assignment?” 

“No. I’m on the team,” Finn said. His head hurt, and his mouth felt sort of dry. It wasn’t a good feeling. “But I thought we could talk and I could … interview you.”

“Are you feeling okay, Finn?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Just need to …” 

He aimed for the chair and collapsed, just missing it. Poe rushed to his side. Panic bubbled up in his throat, tried to formulate a warning, to tell Poe not too as Finn felt something else take over. But he couldn’t stop himself. As soon as Poe was close enough, Finn reached up to grab him. 

Poe might have been the quarterback way back in the day, but Finn was stronger than him now. And he was more determined. Poe just looked  _ confused  _ when Finn pulled him down to the floor and pinned him. More confused, even, when Finn got his hands around Poe’s neck.

“I know you’ve got it. The Solarium. Well, Kylo Ren wants it back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“You do! You stole it from him.” 

That’s right. He couldn’t get distracted by how good-looking Poe Dameron was -- he was a thief. Poe squirmed, reddening slightly as he struggled to breathe beneath Finn’s grip. He reached up, clawing for Finn’s face to try and get a grip to shove him away, but he couldn’t. They were too close in height, too well-matched, and Finn was the stronger of the two.

Finally Poe patted Finn on the shoulder and nodded, when he was so purple he looked like he might pass out, and he nodded. Finn loosened his grip, confused, bewildered by his own actions, and he frowned when he saw that even as the purple drained from his face, dark red-purple marks had already begun to form in a cord around Poe’s throat where Finn had choked him.

He’d done that. 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

“I’ll tell you,” Poe rasped, and a sputtering cough followed. 

“You’ll do better than that. You’re gonna give it to me.”

“I can’t,” Poe said. He reached up to rub his neck, slowly collecting himself. “It’s not here. It wouldn’t be safe here.” 

Finn’s gaze narrowed, “Then where is it?”

 

* * *

 

When Rey got home from school, her belongings were stuffed haphazardly in a pair of trash bags at the bottom of the rotten stairs of Unkar Plutt’s home. She stared at them, incredulous, then marched right up, skipping the weak step (he’d make her repair it, if she were the one to break it), and hastening down the hall to the door of her room. 

The door knob had been changed, and it was locked with a key. On the door hung a sign: `LATE RENT.’ 

She kicked the door and let out a sour yelp when it hurt more than she’d expected. Rey scowled at it like it was the door’s fault, even though she knew it was Plutt’s. Then she ripped the sign off the door.

Rey had been through a number of shitty foster placements all over the county, and Plutt’s had by far been the worst. She stomped back down the stairs and headed into the living room where the TV was turned on and FOX News was blasting at max volume. Unkar Plutt, sweat stain of a human being that he was, sat sprawled on the sunken couch, a beer in his hand.

“What is this?” She asked, standing between him and the TV.

“Hey!” He protested, trying to look around her. “My show is on!”

“You touched my things without my permission. I deserve an answer.  _ What is it?”  _

He looked up at her through those beady black eyes and scoffed. 

“First of September. You never paid.” 

“I don’t have to pay rent,” Rey hissed through gritted teeth. “The State of California is paying you to house and feed me.” 

“The State of California doesn’t live here. They don’t know what a pain in the ass you can be -- you don’t pull your weight.”

“I don’t --” She repeated it incredulously, but ultimately stopped herself. It was absurd of course, that he could loaf around in here all day while she worked herself to the bone to try and keep the house in even the faintest semblance of presentable shape. This was revenge, of course. She had stopped being his maid last month, left it to deteriorate and hidden everything  _ she  _ owned in her room. Now he’s decided to make her pay for it. Literally. She huffed out a breath and dropped the sign back to her side. “How much?” 

“Hundred bucks.”

“A  _ hundred -- _ ” She seethed, then stopped herself and glanced away.

“Hundred and fifty if you don’t get out from in front of the TV, girl.” 

She moved. Rey wasn’t so prideful as to avoid a warning like that. 

“I don’t have a hundred dollars.” 

“Then you’d better get a job.” 

Rey bared her teeth, but threw the sign down and stomped out of the house. She wouldn’t put it beyond Plutt to kick her out. He was low enough for that kind of behavior, a real slimeball. Many of her foster parents had been well-intentioned but frayed, or distant but at least well-organized, structured. But those placements hadn’t worked out, for one reason or another, and so she’d wound up with Plutt. 

She sat outside on the porch step, forehead bent to her knees, trying to puzzle through it. The sun was starting to set -- fall must really be creeping in, for it to be getting so much cooler and so much darker so early. It was a pleasant feeling, and soothed some of her anger. Enough for her to think logically about this.

She wouldn’t be able to keep her grades up with a job. She was already taking too many advanced classes, and the school wouldn’t let her withdraw. She could run away, see if someone else at the school would take her in, but she’d still need  _ money.  _ Like it or not, Plutt was the only one housing and feeding her, even if it wasn’t much. Even if she did find another option, then …

She turned to look back up at the house. 

Plutt was her legal guardian. All the paperwork the state had on her led here. If her parents did ever want to find her, if they realized their mistake, if they were ready one day to meet her … they needed to be able to find her.

If she disappeared, fled Plutt, she’d never have that. 

She’d stayed in the system this long, survived Plutt since she was in the seventh grade. She could do just  _ one more year.  _

A clang came from the old shed at the edge of Plutt’s property, and Rey perked up. In the dark, out in the desert, it could be anything. Javelina, probably. 

“Get out of here,” she said as she got up to approach it. “Go on. There’s no food here.” But as she came around the side of the fence, she didn’t find a Javelina. 

There was a person there. They were too androgynous, really, to put a gender to. Stark red hair like fire, combed sleekly back, and a white and black patterned suit. They looked very professional, and terribly out of place here. Yes, very professional, except for the fact that the very red stain stood out against the black and white suit and told Rey that they were bleeding. It seemed to be coming from the person’s neck.  

“Oh my  _ God.”  _ Rey dropped to her knees and held up her hands, trying to put pressure on the wound. “Don’t move.” 

“Too late,” the person said in a soft voice, almost musical. “Call Poe Dameron. He’ll know what to do. He needs … this.” 

The person pulled a satchel up into their lap. It was a nice bag, leather. Nicer than anything Rey could afford. She drew one hand back to open it and found that inside was a book with a golden spine. She looked up at the person, shaking her head.

“You’re worried about a book? Now?” 

“Listen,” rasped the person. 

“No. I’m done listening. I’m calling 9-1-1. Come on.” 

Much to their protest, Rey got the stranger onto their feet and shuffled them towards the porch. This was going to be complicated by Plutt’s presence, and that lock on her door. She frowned, peering through the window of the front door. He  _ looked  _ distracted, at the very least. The TV was still loud. 

She slid the door open and helped the stranger hobble inside to the kitchen with her.

“Keep your voice down,” she said. “What’s your name?” 

“Bebe.” They pressed a hand to their throat, gurgling quietly as they seemed to dip in and out of consciousness briefly.

“Stay with me, Bebe.” 

“Please,” they said. “Don’t call emergency services. They’ll find me.” 

Rey certainly wasn’t  _ happy  _ about that, but she put down the phone. Usually if someone didn’t want to be found, if they didn’t want to engage the police, it was for a reason.

“Are you dangerous?” 

“No.” 

Maybe it was foolish, but Rey trusted that. It was better to believe the best of people, even in a situation like this.

“Who did this to you? Who are they?” 

It looked like an animal bite. But she supposed a baseball bat with enough nails on it … the flesh was too mangled to be sure of anything, anyway. 

“That would be telling,” Bebe said with a breathy laugh.

Rey got up from the kitchen table, sighing.

“I’ve got a sewing kit. It won’t help much, but it will help a little. And Plutt has alcohol. Give me a minute.” 

She went out to the living room then, just hovered in the arch to see what Plutt was doing. He was spaced out, enthralled in Sean Hannity’s shrieking on the television. Rey rolled her eyes and, for the first time in three years, felt grateful for it. 

Then she went digging through her trash bags for her sewing kit, and when she found it, she grabbed alcohol from under the sink where Plutt hid it. He thought she didn’t know the combination for the cabinet locks that he’d put in when he first moved her in here, but she’d figure it out a long time ago. Picking locks was easy. She just never wanted his food to begin with, if she could help it.

When she unscrewed the bottle and set it on the table, Bebe immediately took a long drink. Rey arched her eyebrows, and Bebe shrugged in turn.

“I needed it. Now you can go.” 

Rey poured some out over the injury. 

“What’s with that book?” She asked, minding the injury. Bebe winced with each jab of the needle. Rey didn’t blame them -- she’d never done this before, and she couldn’t have been doing a very good job. But it would help the wound stay closed, and maybe help it heal. “And who’s Poe Dameron? If you’re going to stay here--”

“Just for the night.” Bebe breathed out. “When it’s light again, I’ll be out of your hair.” They flinched. “ _ Fuck--”  _

“Sorry!” 

Rey winced, then pulled her hands back.

“I’m all done.” 

Bebe nodded, raising one hand to touch their injury and stopping short. Probably for the best if they don’t. Rey certainly thought so. 

Rey got Bebe settled in the back of the kitchen, near the unused coat closet just off the back porch. 

“Plutt never comes this way. You won’t be bothered.” 

And she was right to say it. Rey returned to the kitchen to work on her homework while Bebe did something on their mobile phone, and after a few hours, Plutt roused himself from the couch and headed upstairs. He looked Rey over, seemed to consider something, then said, “The lock will come off when you pay.” 

Rey sneered, and he departed. Her feelings on the matter didn’t make a difference. Either she paid, or she left. They both knew. 

“Pay?” Bebe asked from down by the closet. 

Rey shook her head and said, “It’s not a big deal.” 

“He’s not your father, is he? Why do you live with him?” 

“I’m just staying here for a little while. Until my parents come back.” Rey got up from the table. “If you’re hungry, I can find something to snack on. There’s not much, but--” 

A sharp bang sounded on the front door’s plastic and mesh screen door. Rey whipped around to look at it. Bebe shrunk further back into the corner and stowed the leather satchel in the closet. 

“Don’t let them in,” Bebe said. “Whatever you do, don’t invite them.” 

“Why would I invite someone in? It’s nine o’clock at night.” 

Bebe met her gaze evenly and said, “You invited me.” 

Something about it seemed accusatory, like they were calling her a sucker for doing it, but Rey wasn’t sorry. She only scoffed and went to the door. Through the window, she could see someone she faintly recognized. He had on a red jacket, from the school, and that’s when she placed it. That was Finn Niima. The football player. 

“He’s from my school,” she told Bebe dismissively. 

“Don’t open it,” Bebe warned again. “This is bad.” 

But Rey ignored them. She opened the door to find Finn on the porch, breathing hard like he’d --

“Did you run all the way here?” 

“Yeah.” He said bluntly. “So where is it?” 

“Where is what?” 

He pulled the screen open and held out a phone. Some kind of GPS locating app was pulled up -- Find My iPhone or something. Rey didn’t have a phone herself, but she’d heard of the principle enough to understand what was going on.

“I don’t have your phone,” she explained bluntly. 

“Not the  _ phone.”  _ He hissed out his frustration between his teeth, glancing up at the roof of the deck like he was growing impatient with her. That wasn’t promising. Rey reached for the baseball bat beside the doorway. “The book. I’m here for the book.” 

The golden book. Rey couldn’t stop herself. She glanced back towards where Bebe was hiding in the corner, nervous. Even she knew when things looked  _ really  _ bad. This was an interaction that needed to end, especially before Plutt came down wondering what was really going on. She had barely begun her dismissive reply -- ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ -- before Finn had shoved her aside and pushed past her. 

Apparently, she hadn’t  _ needed  _ to invite him in. 

He charged for Bebe.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” He grabbed Bebe by the arm, dragging them to their feet. “Where is it?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking ab--” 

“TELL ME!” He shook them. “I need to bring it to Kylo Ren.” 

“I’m not giving anything to Kylo Ren.” Bebe said, “And you won’t find anything if you kill me for him.” 

“Finn,  _ stop!”  _ She didn’t know a lot about Finn -- they didn’t run in the same circles. By which she really meant: he had a circle, and she didn’t. -- But she knew that he had friends, friends who thought he was a good person. This didn’t match up with what she understood about him at all. “Give it a rest. They don’t know anything. Neither of us do.”

“You can’t reason with him,” Bebe said. “He’s not himself.” 

It was the oddest possible thing they could have said. But given that Finn had charged them a moment later, furious, Rey had to agree. She shook her head, mouthing something apologetic, then came after Finn with the bat. 

She struck him -- hard -- in the back of the head, and he sank like a stone to the floor of Unkar Plutt’s kitchen. 

Just when she thought the night couldn’t get any weirder, two headlights shined through the open front door. When Rey turned around, breathing hard, she saw someone get out of a car and run up towards the house. Had someone called the police on him? She didn’t need that kind of trouble, and by the sound of it, neither did Bebe. 

But no. The man who burst through the door was no one she recognized. He was handsome, bronze skinned, and his long curly dark hair was falling all in his face. 

“Did he come? Is he -- Whoa.” He stopped, spotting Finn on the floor.

“Mr. Dameron!” Bebe leapt to their feet and rushed over just as the man -- Mr. Dameron, apparently -- shouted, “Bebe!” 

They embraced awkwardly beside the kitchen table, and Rey walked around Finn to the closet to get the leather satchel. Her hand was still stained with Bebe’s blood, and some of it came away on the strap, but she hefted it one hand and held it out to Dameron. 

“This is what he wanted, isn’t it? The book.” 

Suddenly the two looked very somber.

“You need to give that back to Bebe,” Dameron said. “It’s not safe here.” 

“No. Neither am I, apparently. A madman just came running into my house trying to steal it from me when it isn’t even mine. I think I deserve to know what this is all about.” 

“It’s --” Dameron looked over at Bebe and sighed. “He’s not crazy.” 

“With all due respect, Mr. Dameron, you didn’t see him.” 

“I mean it wasn’t his fault!” Poe walked over and crouched beside Finn. He wasn’t bleeding or anything. Rey hadn’t  _ killed him, _ but he might have to sit out the next football game or two. He grunted a little when Poe reached down to feel for his pulse, and confirming that, looked up at Rey. “Someone made him do this.” 

“You mean blackmail?” Poe and Bebe exchanged looks at her question, and she dove in quickly. “You don’t mean blackmail.” 

“Do you have a place we can talk? Quietly?  _ Privately?”  _

It seemed like the least strange thing to happen all evening, to be honest -- to have a man near thirty asking to be alone with her. But Rey only eyed him, considering it, then said, “Do you have a hundred dollars?” 

Despite his initial confusion, Poe did pay up. And when he did, Rey headed upstairs to where Plutt was sleeping and made him unlock her bedroom. Then he went back to sleep, a hundred dollars richer, and none the wiser to the people in his home. That man could be truly, inhumanly unobservant. 

In this particular case, Rey didn’t mind. In no time at all Poe and Bebe had gathered Finn up and carried him into Rey’s room, where she had begun to unpack her belongings from the trash bags at the bottom of the stairs. Poe case a skeptical look over all of it, but it was cursory, as if he had processed it and accepted that it wasn’t the point right now.

Good. She didn’t want to hear about it from a man who wore a suit that looked like it could pay her college tuition for a semester. 

“What’s this about?” 

“We need to get him on the bed,” Poe said.

“I don’t want him on my bed!” Rey, aghast, tried to intercede, but they hauled Finn up onto the bed anyway. It wasn’t much of a bed, and it wasn’t even hers, but they were crowding her already tiny space when it had only just been violated. She didn’t like any of this. “Can you stop  _ doing things  _ and start  _ explaining them _ ?” 

“Someone got in his head.”

“Like the government or something? A chip? Behavioral modification?” 

Bebe and Poe looked befuddled and Bebe quickly said, “ _ No.  _ That stuff’s all science fiction.” 

Rey shrugged.

Poe continued his explanation, “I have a way to pull him out of it. It just takes … time.” He looked up at Rey. “You know him?” 

“Not really,” she admitted. “We’ve never talked. He just goes to my school.” 

“Cool. That’ll work. Talk to him about the football game.” 

“I didn’t go to the football game,” said Rey blandly. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t go. It’s expensive, and anyway, I don’t like sports.” 

With a huff, Poe dropped his head somewhat. He seemed annoyed, but as far as Rey could tell, that wasn’t her fault. Bebe put a hand on Rey’s shoulder and said patiently, “Just try something that will be familiar to him.” 

Rey glanced back, softened somewhat, and nodded. She took up roost at the foot of her bed. Poe was sitting near the head, beside Finn. He put his hands on Finn’s temples. It looked strange, but it wasn’t creepy or intimate or anything like that. 

“Hi, Finn,” Rey started. “I’m sorry I hit you with a baseball bat. But it’s really the only thing a baseball bat’s good for, and--” Bebe gave her a scolding look and she tried again. “I should be working on my lab report right now. You know, the one that’s due in physics this Friday? But instead I’ve got you here. Crashing into my home. I’m sure you had a good reason for it, but it’s really already been kind of a day, and well, we don’t know each other.” 

While she talked, Poe had begun to chant something weird. She could smell basil, and when she looked over, she saw that Bebe was lighting something aflame. She held it up over Finn’s body. Rey took it back. This was getting  _ very  _ weird. She stopped abruptly, but Bebe looked over at her and waved for her to continue.

Finn, meanwhile, had started to blink his eyes open. 

He looked panicked too about what all of this meant.

“You--” He snarled at Poe, thrashing up. Rey leapt off the bed to narrowly dodge his kicking feet while Poe held him down.

“Finn!” Rey raised her voice, pitchy and wobbly. “Finn, it’s me. I know you don’t know me. No one does. I’m nobody.” 

Golden light burst in clear, twisting threads from Poe’s hands then, and Rey backed up all the way to her window, eyes wide. The threads wrapped around Finn’s limbs, holding him still, and she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. The light also hovered around Finn’s head, filled his eyes until it looked like golden sunlight was flooding out of him.

Paralyzed to do anything else in a situation she didn’t understand, Rey tried to keep going. “But I know you. And this  _ isn’t  _ you. All the things I’ve heard about you, they’re -- they’re good. People like you because you’re kind, because you make them feel good. You’re not … You’re not  _ like this.  _ Please.” 

The light started to burn out. 

Poe and Bebe both looked concerned.

“Did it work?” Bebe asked, their voice hushed. At first, Poe didn’t speak. He just looked at Rey, then at Finn. Then he frowned, backing off a little. 

Finn was blinking his eyes open like he was coming out of a dream. 

Looking at Rey, he said, “That’s not true.” 

“What?” She could barely comprehend his words, let alone their meaning.

“You’re not nobody. I know who you are, Rey.”  

A silence spread through the room that kept Rey from properly being able to dismiss the sentiment or move past it. Her eyes widened slightly, barely perceptible, and she found herself speechless and stunned. 

“You’re like the smartest person in our AP Physics class,” he explained after a moment, trying to take the edge off. Poe laughed then, sinking back onto the bed. He patted Finn’s knee.

“You’re gonna be alright, kid.” 

“Poe -- Mr.  _ Dameron?”  _ Finn looked horrified with himself, sitting up suddenly. “Oh, man. What did I do?” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Poe insisted. “But I need you to tell me everything about when you talked to Kylo Ren.” 

“We should do it while we move,” Bebe said. “It might not take him as long as you’d expect to find us.” 

“We’re not going anywhere until you explain,” Rey said interjected. “Right, Finn?” 

“Uh.” 

Finn, it seemed, was not on the same page, but Rey wasn’t discouraged. She pushed ahead, demanding, “You came into my house, you did something to him. What was it? What’s going on, and what does that book have to do with it?” 

Bebe walked around Rey to watch out the window, cautious and quiet, while Finn started to explain.

“I was … uh, out, recently. Hanging out. Yeah. Just like a half hour away, you know? Near Cholla Valley.” Finn cleared his throat, and moved past his obvious lie. As far as Rey could tell, Poe wasn’t fooled either, but both seemed to decide those details didn’t matter. “Some guy approached me and he said I needed to get something from Poe Dameron for him. A book called the ‘Solarium.’ He said that he was coming to take back what was his. Man, he was creepy.” 

“Kylo Ren?” Rey asked, and Finn nodded. “What did he look like?” 

“Uh, tall. White guy, dark hair. Wore a lot of black. And …” Then, like he was remembering a nightmare. “Man, he really must have messed me up. I swear, when he looked at me, his face was like … it was like a monster.” 

“What kind of monster?” Poe asked. “Describe it.” 

“I don’t--” Finn looked over at Rey, obviously embarrassed. But Poe was serious, and he was the adult in the room, so after a minute, Finn sighed and continued. “He had like a ton of teeth, and they were all sharp. Like a piranha, you know? And his eyes were all black.” He held up his hands. “I  _ swear,  _ I didn’t take anything. It must have been whatever he did to me.” 

“It’s okay, Finn. You’ve been through a lot, if you were having nightmares, then…” 

“It wasn’t a nightmare,” Poe said. He looked up at Rey seriously. “You want to know what’s happening? This is the kind of thing you’re going to get dragged into.” He searched her face. “So? Are you sure you want to know?” 

Rey and Finn looked to one another, apparently grasping for some semblance of normalcy, and then with perfect certainty, in unison, they nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking with me on this weird project! It was sort of a whim. This project may take a long time, but comments will keep me going long enough to see it through. I have the rough outline, and this is only a tiny fraction that I got carried away with today.


End file.
